


Blackbird

by keffjaplan



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hipster!McCree, Kinda Inspired by The cavern club - Liverpool, M/M, Music and angels, Sexual Tension, Who’s the real bad guy here?, hipster!Hanzo, self indulgent writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-25 15:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15643503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keffjaplan/pseuds/keffjaplan
Summary: Jesse is drawn almost unavoidably to the newest performer at The Overwatch without, it seemed, reason.But getting closer to this man had revealed hidden truths and hidden liars.





	1. 8 Days A Week

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! Some quick notes:
> 
> -I made Jesse + Hanzo a bit younger cause I wanted Jesse to have just finished uni before getting his place and Hanzo to still have to whole Genji thing to be relatively fresh. 
> 
> -The Overwatch is based off the club/bar The Cavern in Liverpool so if you wanna see what inspired it check that out! 
> 
> -If there are mistakes sorry. It’s mainly meant to be some self indulgent writing 
> 
> -Also thanks very much for taking a look!

A surprising amount of bodies frequently visited and fitted comfortably in The Overwatch, despite being underground, relatively dark and often damp in the British winter (autumn, spring and summer). But it was still warm and friendly and was the only club/bar that offered near constant live music from varied but talented, local musicians. It catered more to the folk that appreciated music and skill; by the bar area, it was even quiet enough to hear your partner without having to roar over blaring music. 

Admittedly, this attracted more of the older generation, but still you had the odd hipster or two and maybe even friends of the younger performers that bought a more youthful energy to the scene. It was peaceful. Fights rarely broke out; there’s was no inappropriate behaviour regarding some people being unable to keep their hands to themselves and Jesse enjoyed it immensely. 

He lived above the club, on what was effectively the ground floor of the building, then his landlords, who also owned the club, the next floor up. For about five years now, Jesse had been a tenant of this particular flat. It wasn’t massive but had all the essentials and even came with a job at The Overwatch that he cherished. He’d always loved music and now got to listen to fresh, new, talented musicians strive for their own place in the world. 

He even began to really like the owners. The gay couple had owned the club for about twenty years, claiming a handful of famous bands and artist to have found their feet here. They’d been nothing but kind to Jesse, bringing home cooked food down if they had too much or making sure he was happy with the hours he worked and more. 

For the first time in his 27 years of living, Jesse finally felt content. Whether it was the calm before (another) storm or if life had just finally settled, he wasn’t sure and wasn’t sure he cared. For once he was focusing on the now and the happy. And getting a haircut, because lord knows he needs one. 

On a more grey Wednesday evening, Jesse strolled into work to take over a shift from Lena - a young British girl who could make cocktails at an alarming speed - but when he walked into the club, it was still. The whole room had been captivated by a performer, no one daring to make a sound. A lone figure stood on the stage; a black acoustic guitar and a low voice sang a cover of Black Hole Sun and before he knew it, Jesse too was sucked in, frozen in step to gawk at this musician.

His black hair had been tied up into a top knot but the side were shaven short and transitioned into a neatly groomed beard. He had a piercing between his eyes and Jesse swore he saw one in his tongue. The ripped jeans and t-shirt that stretched across his body left little to the imagination and add all that to a somber and enchanting voice, it was easy to see why the whole room was ensnared. 

As soon as he’d finished the last strum, it was like a switch was flicked on. Everyone started clapping and Jesse felt his legs begin to work again. 

“Since when did he perform here,” Jesse questioned Lena as he approached the bar. A shrug. 

“Started today as far as I know. Gabe was even the one to scout ‘im! Must be something special.”

“Ain’t that obvious already,” Jesse pointed his thumb in the stage’s direction, “never seen the place so engrossed.” 

Jesse shuffled behind the counter, excusing himself between the patrons that kind of meandered around the bar, waved Lena off and got to work. He managed to get three orders done before the guitar started up and everyone’s attention was stuck to the stage again. 

He did his best to not get sucked in but it was a lost cause. He was playing Nirvana for Christ sake, Jesse was doomed from the start. As soon as he looked up, their eyes met and he was completely entranced. 

“Come, as you are.” 

He felt his face grow red. Something about how he sang that line sounded almost erotic, the fact that it felt like it was being sang just to Jesse didn’t help. 

“As you were,  
As I want you to be.”

Yep that was definitely a tongue piercing and definitely didn’t help. Jesse forcefully removed his eyes that were still interlocked with the performer and busied himself with putting glasses in the dishwasher, swapping emptied alcohol bottles over and literally anything to distract his mind. 

Luckily, with everyone else so absorbed, no one noticed him slacking or getting rather flustered. And really this man had a beautiful voice so he should just enjoy it and stick to stealing glances every now and again and ignoring that intensity swimming around in his stomach. 

“Jesse, that’s wrong,” Gabe pointed out. 

Jesse jumped right out of his skin and checked what he was doing. Somehow he’d managed to crossover his two jobs, putting the emptied vodka bottle into the dishwasher. How’d he even manage that? 

“Sorry Gabe, apparently I’m quite distracted.”

“He’s something else isn’t he? That’s Hanzo, he’ll be performing Mondays, Wednesdays, and the weekends. Maybe even more if he carries on this successfully.” 

Nodding, Jesse sorted out the dishwasher neatly and correctly before shutting it and turning to face Gabe, away from the stage. 

“Where’d you even find someone like that? I don’t get how he hasn’t been picked up yet.” 

Gabe simply shrugged. 

“Heard about him through a friend so visited a show and invited him here. Better pay and closer to the city centre, rest is history.” 

Clapping erupted from behind him signaling the end of the song. Jesse must’ve started near the end of his set as he heard the noise of a guitar being unplugged followed by a rather serious sounding thank you. 

It was strange. He was expecting people to be requesting more songs or at least showing some verbal protest. But just like after the first song, everyone resumed what they were doing beforehand, as if they simply woke up from a dream. 

Jack had joined Gabe at the bar and the two were mumbling to each other so Jesse decided to leave them be and actually do his job serving customers. He managed to catch a glimpse of Hanzo before he left with the guitar case strapped over his shoulder. He was talking to a tall blonde man and they seemed rather sweet on each other. Boyfriend, he guessed by the way the blonde tucked a strand of hair behind Hanzo’s ear. 

Admittedly, Jesse felt slightly disappointed but promptly chastised himself; he hadn’t even met the guy. But still, he was attractive and Jesse did have eyes. Eyes that again, locked with Hanzo’s who seemingly didn’t even try to look away. It wasn’t until the boyfriend looked to Jesse did their eyes break away and Jesse felt as if he got caught staring. 

They left shortly after, and everything returned to normal. A new performer had begun to set up and Jesse could go back to working like he usually did, right up until they closed at 3am. He made his way up to his flat, ate some food kindly left by Jack then went straight to bed. 

And if he dreamt about that new performer at The Overwatch, no one had to know.


	2. And Your Bird Can Sing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who’s ready for sporadic updates on this self indulgent fanfic?

The club had been busy along the weekend as word of their new performer spread. On the Monday it was less so, due to being a weekday and the fact Hanzo’s set was last, not finishing till one AM. However, The Overwatch still had a surprising amount of patrons all things considered.

By now, Jesse felt as if he had built up a sort of immunity to Hanzo, where he could at least get through his shift without breaking anything or misplacing anything. Despite the excitement of having Hanzo join The Overwatch crew, Jesse’s days continued in the usual normality it had taken on these past five years.

Tuesdays he went shopping for food; whilst he waited to lock up, he scribbled down some necessities he needed to buy including a birthday card for Fareeha that may or may not be three weeks late. But he hadn’t seen a lot of her recently since she’d gotten back in contact with her mother and, he assumed, they’d been making up for lost time.

After the last few guest trickled out a couple minutes after Hanzo had packed away and seemingly disappeared, Jesse picked up the bin bags to take out back. He motioned to Jack, who was wiping down tables, where he was going before taking a more hidden staircase and knocking open the push door leading out into a back alley.

The first thing he noticed was the guitar case against the wall, the second thing was that the guy who had his mouth against Hanzo’s throat was definitely not the blonde boyfriend he saw last time. Maybe not a boyfriend after all, or anymore at least.

Their eyes met again without sign of breaking. The pair carried on with their PDA whilst Jesse couldn’t bring himself to look elsewhere; lord he must look like a creep, just staring with a bin bag in each hand. Hanzo muttered something to his partner and he abruptly stopped his actions, didn’t even spare Jesse a look, said a farewell and left.

It left just the two of them, the realisation hit Jesse and spurred him on to finish off his job.

“Wouldn’t be doin’ stuff like that with Jack about. He’ll be plenty pissed if you were doing that on his property.”

Jesse resulted to what he usually did when he felt awkward and talked, his mouth saying words before his mind could catch up. It earned a soft chuckle from Hanzo.

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you for worrying about me.”

“Nah just if Jack kicks you out it’d be bad for business.” He knew he sounded slightly annoyed and maybe threw the bags into the dumpster with more force than he usually did. But he couldn’t help himself, he was getting jealous over a very visually based crush.

“Besides what happened to the blonde boyfriend from Wednesday? He wouldn’t be happy seein’ ya like that.” _What the hell Jesse are you trying to pick a fight?_

Thankfully Hanzo just gave another light chuckle and shrugged, “I don’t have a boyfriend, I just get lonely. But I promise to feel less lonely outside of the working vicinity, okay?”

The words weren’t said with bite and when Jesse looked to Hanzo he saw a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, sorry that was outta line of me t’say. Sometimes my mouth moves before my head,” Jesse wiped his hands on his trousers, extending the right one.

“Jesse McCree, by the way. Normally I’m much more charming and make better first impressions.”

“Hanzo Shimada,” he took his hand and gave it a firm shake, “Normally I don’t bring my fun to work and make better first impressions.”

They smirked at each other, a similar sort of dry humour and wits paired with how Hanzo’s hand felt in his, set Jesse's nerves aflame.

“Don’t think workin’ here’s fun enough then?”

“I think we just have different versions of fun. Perhaps I’ll have to show you mine one day,” Hanzo slipped his hand out of Jesse's and bent to pick up his guitar case again, still smirking.

“Good night Mr McCree, I shall see you Wednesday.”

And just like that, Jesse was left dumbfounded in the alley way.

“Son of a ...” he sighed. The pretty ones were always players. Perhaps he should just give Hanzo a wide berth, remain strictly professional and avoid all complications. Something tells him that’s gonna be very hard though.

He pulled the door shut behind him and descended his way back down to the club. Jack was waiting by the front door, phone in hand,

“All ready to go?” He didn’t even look up from his phone to ask.

“Ah yeah let me just lock up behind us and we’ll be set.”

Jesse closed the double doors, careful not to chip even more wood off the mildly dilapidated doors. He turned to Jack and they walked up the metal staircase to a short landing. Jesse moved to lock the metal doors that sealed the club inside then headed through the private door just across the landing. Jack followed behind him,

“So what do you think of our new performer?”

Jesse raised an eyebrow. They walked down the short corridor to what effectively was Jesse’s front door.

“He seems very popular and very talented. Can’t say I know about him as a person but as a performer - he’s something else.”

Jack nodded. “You know, Gabe’s worried that you’ll get … involved with him.”

They’d reached Jesse’s door by now and he exaggeratedly looked for his key amongst his pockets to hide his blush.

“I promise it won’t hinder my work if that’s what he’s worried about. Besides, ‘m thinking this guys a bit of a player, and they only love you when they’re playing, to quote Fleetwood Mac.”

Jack sighed, “We don’t mean to baby you Jesse, he’s just worried is all. Like you said, Hanzo really _is_ something else. Anyway, good night Jesse.”

“Yeah g’night. Tell Gabe I’m a big boy and can look after myself. But thanks for worrying.”

His door clicked open and shut, the welcomed view of his apartment, albeit a very dark view, reminded Jesse of how tired he actually was. He flicked on the main light that illuminated the messy environment he lived in.

Wondering over to the kitchenette, he plucked open the fridge and pulled out some leftover rice from a paella Jack and Gabe had made yesterday. He didn’t bother heating it up, just took out a fork and scrapped the plastic tub’s contents into his mouth.

He tossed the fork into the sink, set the container on the side to be reused at a later date and flicked the light back off. His bedroom fared no better than the main room, perhaps even worse with clothes strewn about, empty glasses and cigarette butts lining the side table, floor and dresser.

Stripping down to his boxers, he fished out a box of cigarettes from an old pair of jeans and flopped down onto his bed. He grabbed a lighter from his side table and lit up. Lazily, the smoke rose and settled against the ceiling; no thoughts really occupied his mind and he was content to just stare until the cigarette was burnt up, dumped in an ashtray and his eyes pulled close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for taking time to even look at this!   
> Peace and love.


End file.
